Friday Nights

I’m having so many difficulties sleeping, and it’s pissing me off. I wish I could blame that on the incessantly mouthy little dogs next door and above me (They must know I’m trying to sleep, because the second my head hits the pillow, they start barking.), but the truth of the matter is, I am simply stressed beyond words. There is much to do between now (Friday evening) and Sunday morning. I know this because I’ve been making lists.

Like many writers, I get things done by laying things out on paper. Moving is no different. It is stressful, physically & emotionally difficult, not to mention expensive. I have slight envy (not in a serious sense) for anyone who can simply pack their stuff up in a truck and move on to a new town, city, or state without a lot of effort, and without assistance from another human-being on the physical end of things.

It doesn’t matter where you move, if you’ve inherited 2-4 generations worth of “stuff” it costs money to keep that “stuff” safe until you are able to successfully sort through everything, keeping only what is most precious to you (and oftentimes you do not have the time to do that, so you just move it all.). I hope that in the future, my children don’t ever have to say “Wow! Mom had a lot of stuff. What should we do with it all?” I’d prefer they have tangible memories, photos, and a million special moments of family to reflect upon. I’m not saying one shouldn’t keep things, but outside of jewelry, books, DVD’s, music, and a few precious items that I will always hold dear, I’m pretty minimalist, and I try to achieve that “less is more” part of myself with every passing day. I am perfectly content to sell “stuff” I don’t want or need, and I am just as content to donate things when the need arises.

And yet, I am oddly attached to what I do own. I remember working hard for these things, struggling, and being excited when I was finally able to call something mine. But now? My health has to be my biggest priority.

Earlier this week, when I thought I was about two seconds away from an epic meltdown, my brother pulled me aside and said “You think you’re breaking, but you’re SO strong. You don’t even know how strong you are. I see it.” And yet, I continue to lose my temper on a damn near daily basis. Sometime between 4:00 PM and 8:00 PM each day, I become a psychotic lunatic that you cannot speak to. It’s scary, because I have no control over it.

Tonight I am trying to do laundry so that I can pack all that is necessary (basically, everything I’ve worn in the past week. All the goodies I found in my bags are, mostly, worth taking with me.), swap things out at the storage unit tomorrow when I grab my suitcases and TV (I figure by putting my clothes into my suitcases, I am eliminating the need for excess boxes.), and then run a few small errands so that I can get some rest before the big journey with what will surely be two crying cats, at least for a little while. Thus far they have proven to be good little travelers. I pray that is true on Sunday, which is precisely why I will wait until next week to wash their blankets. Even though it won’t be cold on Sunday, the familiar smell of “home” will help them transition a little more smoothly, especially since they will be meeting another cat upon arrival. These are two tough little girls, so Mama’s going to be clipping their nails to ensure they’re not physically aggressive. I’m sporting some scratches myself from “play”, so I can’t imagine what they might do if they think they’re protecting themselves. Two against one is only acceptable in hockey. We do, however, suspect that their new roommate was a drunk hockey player in a past life. You never truly know. 😉

I’m desperately trying not to take anything with me if it’s not 100% necessary, but there are some things I cannot negotiate on. I’ve already gotten rid of two boxes full of crap that didn’t seem like crap at the time, but felt good to toss. I consolidated four boxes into one, etc. If you don’t know when you will use something, you probably don’t need it “right this minute”. Breathe, and let it go.

Thankfully, I am pretty sure I only have two more loads of laundry before I can call it a night. I will throw dinner together between now and then, and maybe nail a beauty routine down so that I don’t have to waste time tomorrow. If I over-think it, nothing will get done properly, so I need to dial it back and calm the fuck down. Sleep is NOT a crime, especially when you’re terribly sleep-deprived, but I need to allow myself a good 6-8 hours so I don’t become a psycho tomorrow, or Sunday for that matter. Note to self: Eat regularly, stay hydrated, and pack some snacks.

I’ve got this.